Unexpected Magic

by Imani L Hawkins

  “I mean, he’s definitely easy on the eyes in a place like this, but I guarantee you may want to avoid him all-together.”

  That was an understatement. Everything within Sam wanted to avoid him, even while she found herself drawn to him. The mixed emotions confused her, and she tried to determine why. She’d never gotten that feeling from anyone else she’d met.

  “So, Benji tells me you’re the new waitress. Like we need another one of those running around here milking our tips from the guests,” the woman sneered, her eyes sparkling a light shade of blue.

  The air around them grew cold as the woman’s eyes grazed over her, assessing her.

  “Well, if you want to keep your job, I suggest you keep your legs closed. Benji has a tendency to fire the girls he’s managed to conquer.”

  Before Sam could think about what the woman was saying, the woman thrust her hand forward. “By the way, my name is Colleen. As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, I’m a dancer here.”

  By her attire, it certainly was obvious her position, but Sam thought nothing of it. If the woman wanted to flaunt her body for tips, more power to her. Sam wasn’t beyond using her body to get what she wanted, and she’d judge no one else for doing the same.

  She shook Colleen’s hand. “I’m Sam.”

  “Oh! For Samantha?”

  “No, just Sam. My parents thought they were having twin boys. Imagine their shock when I popped out.”

  Sam grimaced at how rehearsed her words sounded as she explained something she’d been forced to explain millions of times.

  “Well Sam,” Colleen issued a polite smile. “As you can see, we’ve recently had electronic servers installed so there’s really no need to serve drinks or food. However, our patrons may require special attention. Flirt with them and keep them buying drinks. Your tips are built into the cost of the drinks which we’ll cash out every night. For every lap dance you sell for the girls, you’ll receive a gratuity paid out with your tips. Jeanine keeps me pretty busy, so I’d suggest you line up customers for either Candice,” she pointed toward a tall blonde off to the side of the stage, “or Justice, her twin. If you could sell them both together, that would be great.”

  Colleen took Sam’s arm in hers and escorted her toward the patrons seated before the stage.

  “To either side of the room is VIP rooms, private rooms patrons pay a lot of money to get into. But make no mistake about it. They are only for private dances and nothing else. We have security guards hidden behind the mirrors, ready to pound on anyone who decided to take it too far with the girls. The VIP rooms start at a thousand, but you can charge any amount you want over that. The more you’re able to collect, the more you make. Up here near the stage is our usual VIPs. They spend a ton of cash but can get pretty handsy. I hope you’re not opposed to be touched.”

  She turned to look at Sam, her eyes questioning.

  Sam shook her head. She’d expected nothing less from the establishment, though she wondered how far the men would be allowed to go. She squeezed her knees together at the thought of some stranger’s hand between her thigh.

  “They are only permitted the occasional palming of the ass or tits here. We’re a respectable establishment in spite of this place’s appearance. Most of these men are high ranking citizens who enjoy their short vacations away from their wives and kids. They know not to go to far.”

  High ranking citizens? Sam wanted to scoff at that, but she held it at bay. Instead, she allowed Colleen to lead her closer to a table and introduce her to the men seated at it.

  “This is our new waitress, Sam. Be nice.”

  With a light shove, she pushed Sam toward the men before turning on her heel and making her retreat. It was going to be a long night.

  ~*~

  A stranger sat in the darkened corner, shrouded by shadow as he glanced at the young fae, an elegant pixie forced to wait on the scoundrels of the Earth while they pawed at her ass like rabid dogs. He sneered as another man reached for her, pulling her small frame into his oversized lap. How she’d allowed herself to be toyed with was beyond him but what did it matter. In a week’s time, he’d have her where he wanted her, and there was nothing anyone would do to stop him.

  He watched as her eyes continued to flit toward the young warlock perched on a stool by the bar. He could feel the power radiating from the man as he leaned forward and tossed back another drink, his redheaded companion seated beside him. Anger burned through him so hot he could feel the heat seeping from his skin, brightening it with a light shade of red. Hatred for them brewed so violently he had to fight to remain in his seat, to keep himself from stalking toward them and ripping their heads from their bodies.

  He knew he’d enjoy every moment of it as their bodies twitched and shuttered on the ground, blood spilling from their necks. The wasted nectar would pool on the floor, full of their mystical essence as drained every drop from the disembodied heads. The crowd of men and women would scream, cowering in corners or rushing from the building in hopes of escaping his wrath. And he’d let them go. He had no use for normies, humans with not an ounce of magic to contribute to his growing powers, but his buddies would be waiting outside, ready to pick them off one by one.

  That had been the plan until the blonde walked into the bar, glancing about as if on a mission of her own.

  He wondered about the mission that saw the young fae allowing herself to be degraded. He’d imagined money played no part in it, not with how she was dressed. She wore a designer dress he’d recognized the moment she stepped into the bar. It was a dress he’d seen gracing the catwalks of the most prominent designer Channingsburg had to offer and price tag had made it just out of his reach, not that he’d been interested in purchasing the damned thing. His mate, even with her tall slender body, would do it no justice. Besides, she preferred a more masculine attire much to his chagrin.

  The blonde wore the dress well. It hugged her curves, the hem of it sitting deliciously against well-toned thighs. The neck was plunged deep enough to display ample breasts he was sure would spill out onto the table as she stretched herself across it, giving the room a perfect view of her ass. Towel in hand, she wiped the table before shoving the towel into the waste bin and reclaiming her seat in the man’s lap. Her forced smile wasn’t lost on him as the man snaked an arm about her waste and pulled her back into him.

  Jealousy seized him at that moment, and it was potent enough he had to turn away. That let him know what he’d felt the moment she stepped into the bar was real. That pull that made his muscles clench with need, that magnetism that tugged at what little bit of humanity was left within him. He’d thought it nothing more than lust in the beginning, a trivial emotion that drove those of his kind to act without thought, but it was more than that. It was the same feeling he’d had for his mate so long ago, a feeling he felt depleting the more time past.

  The fae was his and he’d have her.

  Chapter Three

  The night went by at a snail’s pace and Sam couldn’t help the anxiety flowing through her as she glanced up at the clock. Ten minutes until last call, and ten minutes too long. She was exhausted. Her feet cramped as she walked about the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floors. Her muscles ached and her ass was numb from all the attention it had received that night. It was one thing to have strangers grabbing her, pulling them into their laps and staking claim to her as if she were nothing more than a trophy. But their need to break in the new girl had resulted in rounds of spankings she wanted nothing to do with.

  She plucked a few empty bottles of beer from the tables around her, discarding them in their bins. Getting some free time to introduce herself to her mark had been impossible. Each time she’d cleared a table, another requested her presence, giving her no time to even relieve her full bladder which was ready to burst at any moment. Squeezing her legs together to calm the ache, she shuffled toward the lady’s room, and shoved the door open.

  A dizzying cloud of heavy perfume as
saulted her the moment she stepped into the bathroom. Covering her nose with her hand, she shoved past a dancer standing at the mirror and darted into the first empty stall she saw.

  “Are you okay in there?” a familiar voice called to her from just outside the stall.

  “I’m fine.”

  She was anything but. The entire evening was wasted catering to mongrels, and she wanted to do nothing more than return home and wash the memory of their filthy hands from her. She heard the final call announced through the speakers and thanked the gods as she exited the stall. Colleen was waiting for her with bottle of sanitizer in her hand.

  “I wouldn’t trust the water here,” she explained, shoving the bottle into Sam’s hand. “Just return it to me after you’re done clearing the floor.”

  Colleen left the bathroom, leaving Sam standing there alone.

  Sam sanitized her hands before leaving the bottle of sanitizer on the metal counter beside the row of ceramic sinks. With no pockets and no desire to carry the bottle around with her, she was left with no choice. She left the bathroom and shielded her eyes as against the onslaught of white light that flooded the room.

  Once her eyes adjusted, she noticed the room had been completely transformed. The neon lights that lined the white walls were replaced with faux brass candelabras with flame shaped bulbs that shed white light. The plain wooden tables were replaced with tables that displayed intricate carvings of mystical creatures from the fairytale version of fae with pixie wings to elves. The stage displayed a large white grand piano with golden trim.

  The other waitresses were at work, tossing cream colored table cloths on the tables and decorating them with vases full of fresh red and white roses.

  She could no longer smell the taint of cigar smoke, liquor and body odor she’d smelled before. Instead, the scents that wafted around her were marvelous, roses, lavender, and orange blossoms. Even the bar had a more elegant quality to it.

  Her eyes darted around the place, noticing the stark contrast from what it was before.

  “He turns this place into a fine dining establishment during the day. Most of the men you saw here tonight will be here during their lunch breaks in business suits and ties. They may even bring the wife and kids here or their colleagues. Isn’t it insane?”

  Sam found herself jumping again at the sound of Colleen’s voice. The woman had a knack for sneaking up on her and it was beginning to annoy her.

  “My sanitizer?” Colleen requested, holding her hand out.

  “I didn’t have pockets,” Sam shrugged.

  She’d thought about returning to the bathroom to collect the bottle, but Colleen had beat her to it. She returned with the bottle in hand.

  Sam glanced down at the bottle and noticed, for the first time, how the thick bluish liquid swirled within it. “What is that?”

  “Liquid ice,” Colleen responded, shoving the bottle into the pocket of her leather jacket.

  As she was noticing with the other staff, Colleen had changed out of her nightly uniform, replacing it with blue jeans, a red top and a black leather jacket. Her hair was now a light purple shade.

  The air cooled around them again just as Sam felt the gentle caress of magic flit across her skin. She gasped as realization hit her.

  “You’re…”

  “A mage.” Colleen finished the statement for her. “Yes. And you’re fae. I could sense it on you the moment you walked in.”

  It finally dawned on Sam why Colleen had introduced herself in the first place. The bar had been full of humans and Mysts preferred to stick around their own kind when possible. Just incase a human decided to be less than cordial.

  Damn humans. They thought they owned the world and commanded the entire space as if no one or nothing could harm them. They delighted in ganging up on any Myst thought to be alone like bullies in high school going after the nerdy kids who stuck to themselves. Sticking close to each other was the only way to shield them from acts of violence or worse.

  Sam thought about her mark and the conflicting feelings she’d had about him before. She’d seen Colleen talking to him earlier that night, though she’d thought nothing of it at the time. It was Colleen’s job to flirt with the guests. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized there was something different about the way they interacted. Colleen seemed friendly around him, familiar and at ease where most who ventured to close looked as if they’d been repelled by him.

  She allowed her eyes to skim the place, looking for the man. She didn’t have to look far. He was seated in the same space by the bar with another row of shot glasses lined before him.

  Just as before, conflicting emotions invaded her mind as she glanced at him. On one hand, she wanted to approach him, to ask him what he knew about her brother’s death. On another, she wanted to run from his presence, to create more distance between them than there already was.

  Perhaps feeling her eyes on him, he looked up, and those deep brown eyes bored into hers. There was a fire behind that look, something deep within the depth of those eyes that struggled to free itself. It was neither man nor Myst, but she knew it was real. She could feel it seething at her, daring her to act in any way it felt less than desirable, flexing its muscles.

  Jonathan’s jaw tightened and the muscles of his arms tensed. She could see the fight in him as he held whatever lurked beneath that gaze at bay. A tremor passed over him.

  “Dammit! Jonathan!” Colleen raised over toward her friend and placed a hand on his back.

  Even from the distance, Sam could see his features relax beneath her touch. A sliver of blue light snaked across his eyes before he tore them away from her.

  Sam released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She was trembling, holding herself still as if whatever had caused that surge of energy between them would pounce the moment she dared to move.

  All at once she knew what he was. A warlock who’d been demon-touched, and his demon could sense her intentions. He’d made himself known to her the moment she’d first laid eyes on Jonathan in a way that tugged and pushed at her.

  Without thought, she took a step forward, testing her legs. They felt like spaghetti beneath her, ready to give away at any moment should she apply too much weight to them. She took another step, then another. Before she knew it, she was half way across the room, making her way to the warlock and Colleen who was still rubbing his back to calm him.

  A magic barrier rose up in front of her, tangible enough she collided with it. Looking up at Colleen, she could see the mage shaking her head, warning her, but Sam ignored it. She pushed through the barrier and took another step in their direction before crimson red eyes pierced her. Malice, hatred, warning, threatening, and daring. The swirl of emotion circled around her, pressing down on her until she felt she couldn’t breathe. A word flashed before her eyes as she began to feel that pull again, only this time is started in her chest and felt as if something was being ripped from her. She grabbed at her chest, wincing at the pain of it before she realized what the word was.

  Death.

  Chapter Four

  Darian stalked through the open door of his home, shedding his trench coat and leaving it on the floor. Jess would pick it up as she had done for the hundreds of years they’d been mated. He grimaced at the thought. Jess was far from the person he’d thought himself mated for life with, considering his status within his community. She was docile, comfortable with her domesticated status, and lacking the tenacity he’d admired in other women of their kind. A stepping stool, fit to further his status and nothing more.

  Sure, Nicolette was beautiful in a classical way. Her hair was long, dark and velvet, blanketing her small body down to just below her ass. Her milky complexion was a perfect contrast to full red lips, deep blue eyes, and a small nose. Her slender frame was something to be admired with gentle curves in just the right places, just enough he had something to hold on to when fucking her.

  He watched as she scurried toward the door, sh
ut it, and picked up his coat. She placed it neatly on a hanger before rushing toward their bedroom. She was like a rat – scurrying about the place in search for any scrap or crumb he left behind, hoping to please him in any way she could. The poor thing lived to please him, no matter the levels of degradation he’d subjected her to, and it disgusted him to no end.

  Where was the challenge, the hunt, the fight? It was as if the spirit of the woman was ripped from her body and replaced with a machine that did nothing but take orders all day. She catered to him, bending to his every will. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him, and that was the problem.

  Darian had always admired a spirited woman, one who’d match his wit and challenge him. A true mate, one he could easily spend the next few hundred years with. One that wouldn’t bore him after the first twenty years of a long period of being mated. Instead, he was stuck with a whimpering mate who cowered every time he so much as raised his voice to her.

  He sighed, stepping into the living room and kicking off his shoes. Were she like the fiery blonde he’d watched at the bar, he could easily spend the next three hundred years between her thighs. But she was far from that.

  He watched as she flitted into the room, picking up his discarded boots and carrying them back to the room. Moments later, she returned, carrying a platter that held a goblet of fresh blood, cheese, and crackers. She sat it on the table beside him before coming around to stand before him. Kneeling down, she removed his socks and began rubbing his feet.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he sneered, a far cry from being polite. He was disgusted with the woman he’d spent so long with, a woman he would have never agreed to mate were it not for his parents brokering the deal.

  His mind thought back on a time when the clans were at war. They’d fought each other tooth and nail, desperate to eradicate the other if for no other reason but to be on top. That was the thing about vampires. With all the time in the world, they had no need for power. Time was far more powerful than any other commodity out there and they had plenty of it. Enough they warred out of nothing but pure boredom.